


Conversations

by Adoradork



Series: Dirty Little Freaks [1]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Friendship, Gen, Grown-up turtles, Pornography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-02-09 08:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1975536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adoradork/pseuds/Adoradork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don doesn't remember when his lab became the place for midnight conversations, but somehow it has. Somehow in this last, horrible year, it has become the safe place for all of them at one time or another. He never knows who will walk through the door, or what will be on their mind. But that's okay. He's a good listener.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Michelangelo

**Author's Note:**

> In this story, the boys are older, in the 18-20 range. This is a new universe I'm writing in, and it's a lot darker and bloodier. Rated M for language and sexual references. Please let me know if you enjoy it!

It's past midnight and Don's sitting on a stool at his workbench. There are wires of varying sizes spread out in front of him, and his tray of tools is within reach. He's got part of a Kraang computer in his hand. He turns the hunk of metal and wire over, examining the jagged and broken edges. There's information in there, he knows it. It would help if he could just pull the damn thing apart but Kraang tech is so metallo-organic in nature that he'd need surgical tools to do it effectively. Easier to just figure out how to listen in, and he's learned a few tricks over the years.

Now he just needs something running in the background. It keeps his mind from wandering too far when he's stuck, and it's company, in a weird way. He flicks through his folder of pirated movies, passing over the action flicks that his brothers love. He spots a familiar title. _Emmaline._ It's in French, which he doesn't speak, and has no subtitles, but he's watched this one enough times to have drawn his own conclusions about the plot.

He presses play and reaches for the voltmeter. On the screen, Emmaline strolls through a field of long grass, her hands brushing the tops of the stems. The light shines through her sundress, outlining her figure in silhouette. It's a nice figure, the kind he likes, tits a nice size but not too big and a shapely ass. He lets one half of his brain enjoy the swing of her hips while the other half is assessing the available connections on his stolen Kraang hardware.

The door to his lab rumbles open behind him and he waits to see which brother has come into his space. Don doesn't remember when his lab became the place for midnight conversations, but somehow it has. Somehow in this last, horrible year, it has become the safe place for all of them at one time or another. Maybe because they've all spent so much time on the narrow infirmary bed. Maybe because it's his place, and he likes quiet, and calm.

"Hey, nice tits!" says Mikey's voice. He plants himself on a stool next to Don and leans on his arms. "What's this?"

On the screen, Emmaline's sundress is gone. She's running towards the camera, laughing, and the free movement of her breasts is hypnotic. "It's a movie. _Emmaline_ ," he says. They appreciate the jiggle of her breasts for a moment in companionable silence.

"Is this porn?" says Mikey.

"It's an arthouse movie." Don clips the shielding from a thin wire and attaches it to a seven-pin connector. Emmaline has reached a little boathouse on a lake now, and is joined by a man, also naked. One thing the French have over American porn, Don thinks, is that they pick leading men who don't look like gorillas.

"Nice ass," says Mikey, not defining whose ass he's appreciating.

Don catches the sideways glance but doesn't reply. He knows the remark would bother Raphael and Leo, though Leo would never admit it. But Don doesn't care either way what Mikey's preferences are. Besides, Mikey is a shit-stirrer. Half of what he says these days is just to get a reaction.

On the screen, Emmaline's companion has lifted her up onto a bench and is licking her pussy with slow, deliberate strokes.

Mikey snorts. "Dude, I think this is porn."

"It's French porn."

Mikey scrunches up his face. "Does that make it classier?"

"Maybe."

"What are they saying?" he asks, as Emmaline moans something in French.

"No idea." He plugs in the connector and checks it with the voltmeter. No reading. He pulls it out and scuffles through his tray.

"I killed a guy tonight."

That makes Don pause, mainly because it's something Raphael would normally say. He glances at Mikey. He doesn't look upset, only pensive. "Oh?" He finds the connector he wants and picks it up.

"Declan told me about this guy."

Declan is a name they've been hearing a lot of late, one of the mad coterie of skaters and taggers than make up Mikey's circle. They're all crazy as far as Don's concerned. Raphael hates them with a passion, even more so since the _you show me yours and I'll show you mine_ incident in the ladies toilets at the Freak Club.

"He lives down the road from Declan's gran. Said he runs a puppy mill."

Of course, anything where animals were involved would be on Mikey's crusade list. Don wasn't sure how he got from puppy mill to murder though. "And?"

"So I went down there to take a look. You know what these places are like."

Not personally, but he'd heard enough from the 'Mikey Saves The Animal Kingdom' soapbox to get the idea. "Yeah."

Mikey doesn't say anything for a while. Don watches Emmaline giving her companion a blow job while he clips wire onto a new connector. Mikey's focussed on the screen, but Don's not sure if he's really seeing it. The scene changes to a department store. A different guy is slowly sliding Emmaline's pants off her hips.

"He had an incinerator in his backyard."

Ugh. Don's mind leaps ahead to unpleasant possibilities, but he lets Mikey go at his own pace.

"He was throwing in these puppies. Real tiny ones. I thought they must have died being born. But then I heard them squealing. They were alive. He just didn't want them."

Don puts down the connector and wire he is holding and focusses on Mikey. Mikey's face is serene, but Don suspects there is a lot going on beneath the surface. A year ago Mikey would have been crying. These days he only cries when he is trying to manipulate someone into doing what he wants.

"So I stabbed him in the guts and shoved his head in the incinerator."

Don winces internally. He doesn't like killing, personally, but understands. Mikey's gone to enough dark places for an eighteen year old. One more horror doesn't make much difference. And when it comes to animals Mikey is pretty unforgiving. Same with family.

"Then I called the ASPCA."

"You shouldn't have called anyone." Now he sounded like Leo.

"I was worried about the puppies."

"And now some poor ASPCA worker is going to come in and find a dead and half-burned corpse?"

Mikey's eyes widen and he looks away from the movie. "Oh shit, I didn't think about that." He actually looks guilty. And there's the paradox. Mikey the killer versus Mikey the carer. "I should pay for his counselling."

"Because we could afford that, even if it wasn't a dumb idea."

Mikey shrugs. Don picks up the discarded connector and attaches the wire. He plugs it in and checks for activity. Nothing.

"I didn't tell Declan that I killed him."

"Good idea. Don't tell anybody except us. We have enough mistrust to deal with, without adding violent and murderous to the list."

Mikey rests his chin on his hands. "Are we? Murderous?"

"You know we are. What's Raphael's current body count?"

"I don't know."

"Well, it's high. And Leo's blades have been red plenty of times."

"Do you think I shouldn't have killed him?"

"I didn't say that." He sighs and puts the voltmeter down. "I'm not Leo. I'm not going to moralise at you or talk about honour. You need to make your own choice whether you kill someone or not."

"Cassie calls me a hero." He sighs. "And then she usually kisses me. But Declan kisses better."

Don can't remember who Cassie is, or whether Mikey has even mentioned her before. On the monitor, Emmaline is walking through a park at night, wearing a white negligee. The breeze presses the sheer material against her body. Her nipples are rock hard and dark under the fabric. She leans against a tree and slides her hand between her legs.

Mikey sighs. "I'm so confused."

Don shrugs. "Mikey, nothing says that you have to pick one sex over the other. Do what works for you."

Mikey is silent for a moment. "I meant the movie plot."

Don glances sideways at him and Mikey's got that wicked grin going, the one that means _you got punked_.

"Get out, you ass."

Mikey's laughing now. "Sucker." He hops off the stool. "Thanks for the pep talk."

And now Don doesn't know if he means about the murder, or his sexual preferences. "Goodnight, Mikey."

"Night, Don. Enjoy your porno."


	2. Leonardo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The club Leo mentions here is the Freak Club, a fringe bar where the outcasts of society can drink in relative peace, without judgement. The boys have found a space here, welcome among other people just who don't fit. There's a story coming for it later.

Don's so caught up in his project that he doesn't hear Leo come in, doesn't even know he's there until he reaches for a tool and nearly has heart failure to find his brother standing quietly beside him.

"I swear to god I am going to put a bell on you," he says, one hand over his heart. It's past one in the morning now. "Why are you still up?"

"Just working." There's a sheen of sweat over his skin. Working for Leo means perfecting his art, working to be stronger, faster, better. Leo feels the lack of their father most of all. There was so much that Splinter didn't teach them before he left, and Don knows that it bothers Leo.

"What are you doing?" Leo says, jerking his chin at the Kraang hardware Don is working on.

"Trying to make my prisoner talk." Don sticks the end of a tiny screwdriver into a narrow slot, trying to clear away the debris he suspects is in there. "I pulled this out of that Kraang lab last week. I'm hoping it will have more information on their super soldier project."

Leo nods. He looks tired and worn, too many cares for someone so young. "Let me know if you get anything."

"Will do."

Leo flexes his shoulders and Don hears his joints crack. But Leo doesn't leave. He stares at nothing in an abstracted way. There is a volley of French from the laptop. Leo glances at it, then does a double take. "What _is_ she doing?"

Don pauses to watch the movie. On screen Emmaline is rubbing up against a marble statue of a man with an erect cock. She climbs up and slides onto him.

"What the hell?" says Leo.

"It's metaphorical." Don points the screwdriver towards the screen for emphasis. "The statue represents the cold inflexibility of patriarchal values about sex."

Amusement flickers over Leo's features. "I'd say it's cold all right."

They snigger together like teenagers. Leo looks his actual age for a moment.

"Seriously though, what is this?"

" _Emmaline_."

"It looks like porn."

Don shrugs. Not much he can say to that.

Leo turns his back on Emmaline's communion with the statue. "I've been meaning to talk to you about sex."

"Well, sure, I can give you some pointers, but I thought you'd decided on a life of celibacy?"

Leo narrows his eyes. "Not my sex life, your sex life."

"There's nothing wrong with my sex life."

"So I've heard."

Ah, so that's what's bothering him. Leo doesn't like people knowing their business. He has an almost pathological desire for secrecy, and doesn't think it reflects well on the clan to have Don's sexual exploits the topic of conversation. "What brought this on?"

Leo crosses his arms. "I can't even have a drink at the club in peace without hearing someone going on about you. Yesterday it was the orgy at that squat over in Brooklyn."

"It wasn't an orgy. It wasn't even half of an orgy. Anyway, I was upstairs."

"With a couple of girls."

Don shrugs. "So?" His activity with the screwdriver brings results. A chip of plastic pops out of the slot. "I'm not the one telling the stories."

"I know that. But you're the one-" Leo sighs. "Can't you just pick one partner and stick with her for a while?"

"Seems pointless. I'm not exactly Sunday family lunch material." He picks up the connector and tries it again. This time it fits. He connects the other end and is rewarded with a blip. Good.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

It's got to do with everything, as far as Don is concerned. Why bother pretending to be normal? He tried that, and what did he get for it?

"I know why you're doing this," says Leo.

_No you don't,_ Don thinks. _You don't know anything._

"April-"

"Moving on," he snaps. He freezes for a moment. Forces his shoulders to relax. Wounds. Always wounds, these days. "It's nothing to do with April."

He looks at the laptop screen, rather than his brother, because he doesn't want to see whatever emotion is on Leo's face. Emmaline runs through a forest in a wedding dress, pursued by men and women in blank masks.

"All right. Regardless of your reasons, you are spreading your _chi_ energy to thin. Weakening your inner strength."

Don snorts. Leo and his mystic chi shit. "And?"

"You shouldn't be wasting your chi. You should be conserving it to make yourself stronger. This is power you can harness to improve your fighting ability."

"So if I fuck less, I'll be better in a fight? That doesn't make sense. Raphael jerks off all the time and he's a better fighter than me."

"I'm not talking about Raphael. I'm talking about you."

"Did you give him this lecture, too?" Don can only imagine how that would go.

"Of course not."

"Double standards much?" The conversation is heading for a fight without either of them trying. He can feel the tension building in his chest. He hates it, hates conflict, hates discord. _Just leave me alone, Leo. Go fight your own demons._

"Don, I just think-" Leo sighs and pushes up his mask to rub at his eyes. "I hate hearing people talking about you. Hate them looking at me and wondering." He breathes out, then speaks so softly Don only just catches his words. "Hate them thinking we're freaks."

"We are freaks."

Leo is silent, and there's a closed-in look to his face. Don gets it. It's not about him. His activities are just an expression of the churning muck inside. Leo deals with it differently, winding himself up in a cocoon of honour and duty and family so that none of the darkness can escape.

Don sighs and does what he's best at. Making peace. He elbows Leo. "Hey. I'll tone it down, okay?"

He's rewarded with a lightening in Leo's expression. "Thanks."

The tension between them is gone, to Don's relief. A rare win for Leo. It was worth conceding the fight just to lighten Leo's load a little. "Go worry about something else now. What's next on the list?"

Leo snorts but there's a half smile on his face. "I'm going to bed. Maybe I'll even sleep."

"Good luck. Go chase that bastard down and stab him a couple of times."

Leo pats him on the shoulder and heads for the door. "Goodnight, Don," he says, and is gone.

"Night, Leo," Don calls after him.

Leo's head appears in the doorway. "And quit watching so much porn."


	3. Raphael

"What's up, bitch?"

Raphael's affectionate greeting holds no malice, tonight. He comes close and the smell of alcohol and blood washes over Don. Raph's knuckles are bloodied up, which means someone else got a pounding. A wad of money lands on the bench. So, cage fighting again.

"My contribution to the rent," says Raph.

Neither of them mention that he's pretty much the only contributor to the household's finances. Don tucks it away. Somehow he's become the one who manages what little money they get. Leo's too abstracted, Mikey would spend it all in minutes and Raph just doesn't care, as long as there's food on the table and alcohol to drink.

Raph's got scrapes down his arms and a swelling patch on his jaw, but he looks happy. Don suspects he's pretty buzzed, though nowhere near drunk. Happy Raph is rare these days. Don feels he should make the most of it.

"How was the fight?" He attaches a power converter to one of the working connectors on his Kraang hardware.

"Eh." Raph shrugs. "Mostly a walkover, but this one guy was okay. He was an ex-wrestler, I think. Huge. Had me on the mat a couple of times, but no follow through, ya know?" Raph sighs. "Still, worked out some kinks." His eyes stray to the laptop screen, and widen. "Speaking of…"

Emmaline is in her bedroom. The masked people have removed her wedding dress and are now zipping her into a gimp suit. Emmaline blackens her eyes with kohl, and paints scarlet on her lips.

"Nice outfit," says Raph.

"It's representative of her husband's repression of her sexual freedom."

"What the fucking fuck, Don." He stares at Emmaline, who is greeting people at the door of her home, still in the gimp suit, her painted face entirely covered. "You watch some weird shit."

"And you don't?"

"I like my porn nice and simple. Tits and ass."

"What about that bukakke stuff you were watching last month?

"I was looking for something different. Didn't do it for me."

"I'll print you out some _Bondage Fairies_ then. That's pretty different."

Raphael snorts. "Are you shitting me? Fairies?"

"It's a bunch of half-naked fairies running around fucking bugs. I think you'd like it."

"Ugh, gross." Raphael scrunches up his shoulders and shivers.

"There's this one scene with a girl and a caterpillar where she-"

"Augh." Raphael gags, then turns and thumps him.

Don rubs his arm and laughs. "Well there's always tentacle porn."

"No thanks. And none of that weird hentai shit with the boobs bigger than their heads." He pulls a face. "I just want to look at a nice rack. Is that too much to ask?"

"Apparently."

Raphael shakes his head at the degradation of the porn industry. "There are some sick fucks out there."

"There are some sick fucks in here."

Raphael laughs. "Truth." They fist bump, an acknowledgement of shared freakhood.

Raphael watches the movie for a while. Don fiddles with the converter. He's getting activity, but nothing more than that. No real communication.

Raphael breaks his concentration. "Heard from April lately?"

"Yeah, she sent me an email last night. She's panicking about exams, but looking forward to summer break."

"She coming to New York?"

"Her dad wants her to go to Japan with him."

Raphael grunts. Don knows Raphael is offended on Don's behalf for Kirby moving April across the country. No matter how many times Don has argued _it was college, not him_ they all know it's bullshit. Kirby might be grateful to them for rescuing his daughter and himself, but he wants something more for her than a life in the shadows.

Raphael is scratching off the dried blood on his knuckles. Flakes of it drift down onto the bench.

"Do you mind?" Don brushes them off onto the floor. "You'll contaminate my stuff."

Raphael grabs the back of Don's head and grinds his bloody knuckles into Don's face.

Don shoves him away. "I don't even want to know where your hands have been."

"You're such a pussy." Raphael sighs and folds his arms. "I miss Casey."

"Yeah, well, big name hockey player now." At least Casey's college is only three hours away, not across the country, so they sometimes see him on weekends when he doesn't have a game. "Is the bromance surviving the hardships of a long-distance relationship?"

Raphael punches his arm.

Don grins, glad to get a rise out of him. "Did you decide to stay exclusive or are you seeing other people?"

Raphael punches him in the gut this time, hard enough to wind him. Don leans on the bench and wheezes. On screen a naked woman is slowly undoing the crotch zipper on Emmaline's gimp suit.

Raphael squints at the movie. "What's she got drawn on her stomach?"

"Female sexual organs."

"The fuck?"

"The sacred uterus will set her free."

Raphael stares as the naked woman goes down on Emmaline. "You're making this shit up, aren't you?"

Don laughs. "Pretty much, yeah."

"You jack off to this garbage?"

Don doesn't bother answering.

"Best part I've seen so far though."

"Want some girl-on-girl porn?"

"Maybe. How come you have so much porn?"

"I spend a lot of time on the internet." He minimises Emmaline and her companion and unlocks his porn folder.

"Holy shit, Don. You have a problem."

_Just one?_ he thinks.

Raph flicks through his collection. "There you go. Look at that chest."

Don ignores him and puts in another connector. The monitor flickers. Lines of Kraang hieroglyphics spill across the screen. "Got you."

"And on that note," says Raphael. He pushes off the stool. "I think I'll take that nice pair of tits to bed with me."

Don picks up a tissue box and holds it out to him with a grin.

"Very funny." He pauses, then grabs a couple of tissues. "Have fun you two."

When the door shuts behind Raph, Don brings up the movie window again. The credits are rolling. No problem, he's got plenty more. But maybe not porn. Might be time for some music instead.

The eclectic synth sounds of Daft Punk fill the lab. That's better. Don taps his fingers on the keyboard and settles in to discover some Kraang secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed Conversations. Stay tuned for the companion piece, Confidences. And if you enjoyed this story, please let me know. I love to hear from readers.


End file.
